Chapter 3: Sunshine and Rain

"Hey, remember the tent up at Mother's Lake?" Rick asked Gotz one early morning as they met for their patrol shift. "The camper is a woman and she–"

"Yeah, yeah," Gotz waved his hand dismissively. "Was up there last week and chatted with her. What the hell is she thinkin'? Out there galavantin' around alone… I tell ya, if she were my daughter, I'd keep her locked up. She's too damn pretty. And I'd shoot any man who got within ten feet of her!"

"Uhm, yeah... well she left yesterday and headed into town. I reminded her of the two week rule and she–"

"Yeah, yeah," Gotz cut the younger man off again, "I told her we wouldn't enforce the rule on her. She ain't hurtin' nobody up there, ain't a big deal how long she stays."

Rick popped his jaw to suppress his irritability. Earlier that week, Gotz had been adamant about the rules and insisted that they be enforced on the mysterious camper by the lake.

"I'm curious… if she hadn't been a pretty girl with her bra brazenly flying in the wind, would you still bend the rules for her?"

Gotz laughed heartily, completely unfazed.

"Unlike you, boy, I've seen a damn bra before. I've seen them actually on a woman and I've taken them off too! So none of that excited me," Gotz replied with a smirk, obviously intending to get under Rick's skin. "I'm just sayin' that she ain't botherin' nobody up there, so I don't plan to bug her about leavin' unless she becomes a problem."

How could she ever become a problem? Rick wondered.

Usually, he wasn't one to dwell on a calendar or count the days, but for the following two weeks he remained keenly aware of the passing days. Mineraltown was more like a small village, so he had expected to cross paths with the woman at some point in town. Maybe at the post office or the grocery store… anywhere. But he hadn't seen her since that day at the lake.

He continued to replay their meeting over and over in his mind–why hadn't he asked her name? With only a brief interaction she had managed to completely take over his thoughts. It was like a spell, Rick thought, likening her to some sort of witch or forest nymph that wasn't actually real. He reasoned that his new obsession was due to the fact that not much happened in Mineraltown, and meeting her had been the most interesting incident in his life for quite some time.

"Rick?" his mother, Lilia, called out to him, "thank you for offering to pick up my medication. You're such a good son to your mother."

He pushed away the stab of guilt. His motivations weren't at all selfless.

"Yeah, it's no problem, Ma."

She waved goodbye as he got into his truck—her delicate, frail figure in juxtaposition to the heavy wood of the craftsman style house that framed her. But Rick hardly noticed his mother's ailing body—and when he did, he tried his damndest to forget about it.

Diffused light swelled in the humid air, the remnants of a storm that had passed through earlier that morning. In that moment, Mineraltown looked different to Rick. Pockets of sunlight shifted over the land as if it had all been wrapped in cellophane. His eyes darted between familiar streets to the old buildings, taking them in as if he was seeing them for the first time in his life.

But the spell was broken when he entered the too familiar clinic, a reminder that he was indeed in the same old Mineraltown he'd always been in. After retrieving his mother's medication and forgetting everything the nurse had said about it, he took a seat on an old park bench. It was one he'd sat on many times before with Karen. He stayed a while, watching the sky turn to gold before heading back home.

"Ranger Rick?"

The question was accompanied by a girlish chuckle and, for a brief moment, he thought it was Karen approaching him. When Karen was still in town and working at the supermarket, they'd often met at the bench during her breaks. But this woman's hair was lighter, thinner, and the sunshine passed through it.

"Oh, hey there," he jolted upright in response, adrenaline coursing through his body. It was the girl from the lake.

"Perfect timing, it's about time for me to head back up the mountain."

"Yeah… I was wondering if I'd see you. Well, rather, when I'd see you… I mean, when we'd cross paths. It's a small town, ya know?"

The unnamed woman took a seat next to him on the bench, on the right side. Karen had always sat on the left.

"Yes, it is quite a small town, isn't it?" she replied. "I've enjoyed my time but, I must admit, I'm excited to get back to the solitude of nature."

He watched her consolidate items into the least amount of bags possible, gingerly placing items into their new place. At some point, she accidentally grabbed the bag containing his mother's medication.

"Oh, that one's mine," he said as she held one of the bottles in her hand.

"Sorry…" she placed it back in the bag and handed it to him. Silence expanded between them until she spoke again. "I'm sorry but I saw the name of the medication… I don't mean to intrude, but that medicine is very harmful… especially to the liver. There are natural alternatives you could try."

"Oh, it's not mine, I just picked it up for my Mom. It's her seizure medication."

She took Rick's hand in hers without hesitation, a gesture that surprised him. "I'm sorry that your mother is sick. My mother also suffered from seizures, that's how I recognized the medication. Please understand that, even when taken properly, this medication can have serious side effects. Familiarize yourself with the side effects and please, please look out for your mother."

Rick's thoughts flitted between the warmth of her hand and his mother's illness. He eventually nodded, silently chastising himself for having not listened to the nurse earlier.

"Still need a ride up the mountain?" he asked abruptly.

She smiled, her hand remaining on his.

"Yes I do! However, I'm guaranteed to be a Chatty Cathy for the entire drive because, once you drop me off, I'll be like a monk in solitude without any humans to talk with. Of course, I'll have mother nature, but that's an entirely different type of communication."

Rick laughed good-naturedly as he grabbed her bags. Usually, people like her made him feel uncomfortable. She was a hippy after all and Rick didn't have much respect for people like that—people who had let go of all the things he had to keep. He viewed people like that as leeches who could only sustain their lifestyle through the hard work of others. But she wasn't like that, he thought to himself as she talked on and on. And though he was the one doing her a favor, he felt that it had been returned threefold.